


Operation: Get The Girl

by tee_the_missing_piece



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Marauders 2.0, Misunderstandings, Multiple Rejections, Pining, Plans, Post-War, Rejection, Unexpected friendships, a very annoyed ginny, a very determined harry, a very jealous draco, dares, hexes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-23 22:43:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tee_the_missing_piece/pseuds/tee_the_missing_piece
Summary: When Ginny tells Harry she doesn't want him back after the war, Harry is shocked, confused, hurt, and a little bit angry. Most of all, he's convinced that Ginny's simply deluding herself, and is determined to win her back, whatever it takes.With a desperate Harry, a supportive Ron, a sneaky Neville, an uneasy Hermione, a frustrated Ginny, an exasperated Headmistress McGonagall, and a thoroughly amused student body all piled up together in Hogwarts, Operation: Get The Girl goes as smoothly as anyone would expect it to. And when Harry finds himself faced with a completely unexpected rival to his nefarious schemes, his already sideways world turns upside down.





	1. Chapter One: Woo Her Off Her Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's ready. He's ready for this. Completely.

"You understand, don't you, Harry?"

Harry blinked.

"Harry?"

He blinked again. Three more times, slowly, then five times in quick succession. Then he decided that he'd blinked enough for the next minute or so, and just stared.

"Um...does this mean you're OK with this, then?"

His mouth opened, then closed. It opened again, but no words came out this time either, so he quickly pulled it back shut and decided to keep it that way until he was absolutely sure what to do with it. 

"Please say something, Harry, _anything_." She sighed. "I just...this is hard for me too, you know? I swear I never wanted to hurt you Harry, and I really don't _want_ to now, but I just...don't you see? I just - I can't pretend to be something I'm not, Harry. What we had was beautiful, and real, and you'll always be dear to me, but that was _before_ and this is _now_ and - "

Ginny's hands moved even faster than her lips, and suddenly, everything was jumbled up into one big nonsensical mess. Harry tried to stop his brain from going into overdrive and, harnessing all the self-control in his being, he made himself focus on the words swirling in the air between them, trying to decipher their meaning. Rather than doing something stupid, like, say, running out of the room faster than a hippogriff on a skyway.

"- you know I'd _never_ hurt you if I could help it, and I _wouldn't_ , if only I didn't - I'm so, _so_ sorry, Harry, but it's - I can't - it's for the best, don't you see? I couldn't, I _can't_ \- "

For the best? The love of his life suddenly thought it was _for the best_ that they _not_ get back together?

"- Harry, _please_." The words were almost whispers now. "Please don't just - don't just _stand_ there. I don't know, say something, say something mean, be angry, lash out, scream your head off, but _please_ just _say something_."

Well, the last option was tempting, but Harry knew he needed to keep his head on straight. He opened his mouth for the third time in many minutes, this time determined to put it to proper use.

"Why would you need to pretend?"

Now it was Ginny's turn to blink at him. "What?"

"Why would you need to pretend to be anything you're not if we get back together?" Harry's voice was laced with calmness he did not feel. 

Ginny just stared at him, and he understood that she understood his question, that she hadn't expected him to ask it, and that she was reluctant to answer. 

"You wouldn't need to pretend to be anyone," he said, as if that wasn't obvious already, "I know who you are, Ginny." 

He took a deep breath. This was the moment he'd been preparing for all morning, _finally_ it was here, and he was determined to remember every single thing. Even if everything Ginny had said before had been completely unexpected. But that was OK, he could still change her mind, or at least try to, right?

After exhaling slowly, under the gaze of a bewildered and mildly sceptical Ginny, he began, skipping the intro and jumping to line three. 

"You're Ginny Weasley, the fiery, feisty redhead who never hesitates to stand up for herself. The Ginny who fiercely defends those she loves, no damn given for the consequences. You're the Ginny that I kissed for the first time in front of our entire common room, the Ginny that stuck by me through my best times and my worst, as a friend _and_ a lover." 

So far, so good. He saw her wince slightly at the word 'lover', but plowed on anyway. He'd come this far, might as well finish. "You're Ginny, who understands me like no other, Ginny, who was never afraid to call me out on my shit, Ginny, who let me let her go, even though I broke both our hearts in the process." He saw Ginny about to interrupt but he wasn't going to let her, not _now_. "You're Ginny, who fought with me in the Battle, Ginny, who sat by me and held me together at every funeral after the war, Ginny, who's seen my laughter and tears, who knows my delights and my fears," Harry was rather proud of himself for that little rhyme. "Ginny..." suddenly, he hit a blank. Damn it all, he'd forgotten! He paused for a panicked moment to think and then grinned as inspiration struck. " - who hit Malfoy with a bat-bogey hex in fifth year! I mean _man_ , that was _epic_." 

The wince was a great deal more pronounced now. _Oh well,_ Harry thought, _it was a nice enough save. She could act a bit less disappointed._

"Really Gin, what more do I need to say?" He closed the distance between them with two long strides until he stood in front of her. For maximum effect, he looked her dead in the eye. "You're Ginny, who holds my heart in her hands, Ginny, who I can't imagine a life without. You're Ginny, the love of my life." 

Honestly, Harry was scared her face was somehow stuck permanently in that wince (it seemed painful), and absently wondered if he knew a counter-curse for that sort of thing. Would _Finite_ do the trick? Or would her face stay half twisted up forever? Anyway, there were more important things to worry about now. He'd worry about Ginny's face later (not that it mattered, he'd still love her however twisted her face was). 

Ginny wasn't looking at him anymore, so he reached down and took her hands in his. She looked up in surprise. Now came the important part. He put as much emotion into his eyes as he could as he stared into hers (which were filled with more blank confusion than passion, but this was Harry's moment, not hers, and he was in his element.)

"Ginny, I love you." Wince. "I'm truly," wince, "madly," wince, "deeply in love with you." Wince. Wince. Wince. Perhaps these winces were just Ginny's way of showing affection? "You're awesome, bad _ass_ , funny, you _get_ me, and you're _it_ for me. I can't even _dream_ of being with anyone other than you. Why are you fighting this when it's so obviously meant to be?" And that last line was a great improv, if Harry did say so himself. It was official. Harry James Potter was the Master of Improvisation in Romantic Orations.

At the words 'meant to be', Ginny seemed to snap back to herself. She reclaimed possession of her hands, pushed Harry away, gently but firmly, and wouldn't look him in the eye,

Harry was confused all over again. He'd remembered everything! Well almost everything but that one part didn't matter, he'd saved it nicely, and everything should be going according to plan by now! He'd approached Ginny himself, told her his intentions, listened to her thoughts on the matter (even if they didn't quite agree with his own, but even he hadn't expected the degree of her disagreement), and then he'd given the long, heartfelt speech he'd spent nine hours writing, just like he'd planned to, and he'd been prepared to catch a loving Ginny once she'd been wooed off her feet. Because that was what was supposed to happen. That was the plan! And instead, she was....pushing him away? Did he leave something out? No, not as far as he could recall - they were alone, in front of the fireplace, which was the coziest of settings, in Ginny's own home, where she'd feel the most secure, and he'd worn his jumper and jeans that he normally wore so as not to seem too formal or overdressed, hell, he'd even left his hair alone without even _trying_ to tame it so everything would look perfectly natural...

And yet, she'd pushed him away. Damn it, he _knew_ he shouldn't have listened to Hermione when she rejected his idea of buying her a dozen roses, I mean really, what was so over the top about buying a few roses for the girl he loved? Girls _loved_ roses! But when Hermione had said he shouldn't jump to conclusions and he should hear her out before taking liberties like that, he'd grudgingly obeyed, even though he couldn't foresee any outcome other than the one of them in each others arms. 

Obviously, his inner eye needed some thorough cleaning, and perhaps a monocle, because look where they'd ended up now, he'd done everything he'd planned (mostly) to the tee and Ginny had _pushed him away_ and-

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry." Ginny's voice startled him out of his mental rambling. "I've said it before and I'll say it as many times as you need me to - I'm sorry. You want to get back together, but I don't. And really am sorry, Harry, sorry to have caused you pain, but you're not going to change my mind on this." Ginny was a bit pale, but her brown eyes were hard and her voice was sure.

Harry, on the other hand, felt as though he'd willingly jumped off a cliff, only to land right on a trampoline which had promptly thrown him back up again. He hardly knew what to say. But he had to say _something_. He couldn't just _walk away_.

"Ginny? I don't understand...why - why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away when we can finally be together again?" If his voice was a combination of whinging and desperate near the end, there was no one around to judge. Except for an ex-girlfriend who had apparently decided to stay one, for some preposterous reason.

Ginny sighed, long and deep. Harry wondered if she was frustrated, or just simply exhausted. When she looked up at him, he settled on the latter. "Harry, look. It's not like that." She clasped her hands together at her waist and fiddled with her fingers. "A year ago, before the War, when we were just teenagers taking walks on the ground and holding hands by the lake and making out in hidden alcoves, there's nothing I would've wanted more than a future with you."A small flicker of hope sparked in Harry's chest. "I was so sure you were it for me too." Harry noticed the use of the word _was_. "But now...now, it feels like everything's changed. After the war, after losing so many of our friends, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Remus, Tonks," She swallowed. "Fred. And after a year of not knowing which ones would go next and which ones would stay behind with us...I don't know, Harry, the war just made me think about things in a way I'd never thought of them before. It made me think of _myself_ in a way I'd never thought of myself before."

"But you don't need to be anyone else," Harry interrupted her despite her glare, "you're perfect the way you are."

Ginny just smiled at him sadly. "I don't want to be anyone else, Harry. I'll always still be me. I'll always be the Ginny you loved-"

" _Love-_ "

"- but I want to figure out who I am first. I thought I knew who I was, but now...now I'm not so sure anymore. I want to figure out my own feelings, I want to explore thoughts I'd never even considered before and see if they mean anything." She seemed enraptured by the idea, and Harry didn't understand her in that moment, which frightened him more than anything else had. "I want to figure out what I want _now_ , Harry, what I _really_ want. And I'm sorry, but I don't think that's you. Not anymore."

The flicker had slowly died out and was now so dark that it seemed to suck in the light around it too, like a particularly pessimistic black hole. For a moment Harry was stunned into silence. Sure, he'd _suspected_ this, suspected that she might be reluctant to take him back, but he'd also been sure he could _prevent_ it. Whatever Ginny may think in the beginning of the conversation, by the time they'd finished talking they'd be together again. That was the plan! He'd written a long, heartfelt speech, for Godric's sake! For nine hours! What more could a girl want? 

_Obviously more than you can give her._

Harry firmly told his brain to shut up and shook himself out of his stupor. "You don't want me anymore? That's what this about?" A nagging feeling that somehow reminded him of Hermione told him that that wasn't what it was about, not really, but he ignored it. "That's nothing Gin, I understand, we've all changed, the war changed us, and we've all realized we want more out of life, considering we were close to death most of the time. I understand, I really do." He managed to restrain himself from holding her hands again. He had a feeling she'd just push him away. And that was disheartening enough the first time.

"Harry-"

"That doesn't mean I can't be what you want anymore. Just tell me what you want, Gin, -"

"Harry-"

"Tell me what the war made you realize you need and I'll make it yours. I promise you." His tone was pleading.

"Harry, it's not - "

"I'll give you anything, Gin. I _love_ you. I don't see why wanting different things means you have to want a different _person_ \- "

"Harry please, just _listen_ \- "

"I can be whoever you want me to be, Gin, if you would just _talk_ to me about this -"

"This isn't about you, Harry!"

Harry stopped, halfway through his sentence and a quarterway through his monologue, and blinked. "What?"

Ginny sighed again, although it seemed to lean more towards frustrated this time. "This isn't about you, Harry. It never was." 

Harry didn't even know what to say to that. "Oh."

This time it was Ginny who reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of it through his jumper and the t-shirt underneath it. "I never decided not to want you, I just..." It seemed like she didn't know how to go on.

A few moments passed in silence. Then the most awful possibility struck Harry like a hammer to a gong.

"There isn't...Gin, there isn't...anyone _else_ , is there?" The thought was hard to get out, especially since every cell in his body seemed to vehemently oppose the very idea.

Ginny's answering blush was answer enough. She took her hand off his shoulder and took a step back.

For a moment Harry's mind was a complete blank. Then red-hot fury made him incapable of any coherent thought, let alone speech.

Ginny, taking his silence as her cue to explain, began to talk. "It's not - I'm not dating anyone else or anything, Harry." 

That didn't do much to ease the twisting in his gut, but it was at least better than he'd expected. She wasn't completely lost to him yet. Or was she? His mind reeled with semi-processed shock. 

"It's just - I told you, I don't know what I feel. I've never considered...possibilities like this before and now that I am, it feels like a whole new world has opened itself up to me, just waiting to be explored. And...and I have to see what it has in store. I _have_ to. I can't rest if I don't. And somehow, I think what I'd find there would be even more beautiful than what's here."

Harry tried not to act like her words were a blow to his gut as he stared at her. "Are you telling me the grass is greener on the other side?" Because it now seemed like that was exactly what she was telling him. "Really? You're telling me that as an excuse for ending our not-even-back-together relationship? Godric, that's even worse than 'it's not you, it's me', Ginny -"

"Harry, no. Stop." Ginny sighed again, but now she just seemed to be praying for patience. "I tried to explain what I feel to you, but all you're focused on is that we're not together." She looked thoughtful for a second, "You probably think I'm giving up on us. And I suppose in a way I am." She seemed resigned now, but firm. "Don't you see, Harry? I'm not _giving up_ on us, because there's nothing to give up on." 

Harry opened his mouth to oppose that outrageous proclamation, but Ginny cut him off. "I haven't felt like we were 'meant to be' in a long time, Harry." Her voice was earnest, pleading with him to listen, and so he did. "The only time we ever spent time together after the war, we were holding each other together. Didn't you notice, we've never really _talked_ to each other. You've never really talked to me about the war, or your childhood, or anything that troubled you very deeply. You shared your normal everyday trivialities and complaints, sure, and you listened to mine, and both of us were ready to hold each other through those problems, but that's not enough, Harry. That would never have been enough. We never knew how to help each other, we never knew how to solve each others' problems, or even help - we only made the going a little less rough."

It was a sudden splash of clarity. Harry realized this was true. They never really went to each other for help with their problems, only for comfort. But then, wasn't that was couples did? Comfort each other? And they could change that, right? They could learn how to talk to each other, how to deal with each other's issues. It would take time, but nothing was impossible, right? Ginny was still giving up on them too soon, without even a fair shot at whatever they had between them. Torn between reluctant acceptance and mild betrayal, he forgot that he'd wanted to interrupt her spiel. And he didn't understand why she couldn't explore these unknown pastures or whatever and date him too, it's not like he would _hold her back_ or something, and she should know that...

"You only talk to Ron and Hermione," Ginny continued, oblivious to Harry's thoughts, "about your nightmares, and your amnesia, and your uneasiness in small, dark places," How did she even know all of that? Did that mean she was still observant of his actions? Was she still watching him, even if she was also drawn to someone else? Did he still have a chance? "- not to me, and the thing is I don't even _mind_ , Harry, because I talk to - I - I don't seek you out to talk to either," her blush deepened a bit, but she kept speaking, and Harry, lost in his newfound optimism, didn't notice. "My point is, Harry, when we stopped needing each other, it became clear to me that we both needed something different. We aren't it for each other. We both love each other, there's no doubt about that, but I don't think we can find what we need in each other, Harry. I'm sure I can't find it in you."

Those blunt words pulled on Harry's already twisted insides, sending something painful shooting right to his heart.

"Who is he?"

Ginny looked away with a wry smile. "Nobody, as of now." She looked back at him, gaze stony. "I don't owe you this information, Harry, but like I said, it's nothing at the moment." She sighed. "All this made me realize I wanted something else - that doesn't mean I've built up the courage to go after it yet. I really am sorry I hurt you, Harry." She stepped forward, put both her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "I hope you'll see soon that both our happiness' just don't intersect. You'll find your 'it', Harry, one day. I'm sure you will," she smiled a little smile, and there was that blazing look in her eye that he'd seen that first time he'd kissed her, and Harry found himself leaning in the tiniest bit without even knowing what he was doing.

Then her hands went back to her sides. "It just won't be me."

And with that, she leaned up, kissed him on the cheek, quick and soft, and left the room.

Harry stood frozen in place for a few minutes. He felt weak at the knees. Grimacing, he dropped roughly onto the squishy sofa behind him and stared into the fireplace in the Weasleys' living room, wondering if all that had been real, or just something his mind had conjured up in his nervousness. 

He couldn't overlook the possibility - he'd seen much worse things in his head before.

But he also couldn't ignore that tug in his gut and the twang in his heart that told him that everything _had_ been real. Everything. That he'd approached Ginny, a ball of nerves and lines of a speech he'd stayed up all night writing, planning to win her back...

Only to find out that she didn't want him back.

And that she seemed to think their parting ways was _for the best_. That alone made everything else feel ten times worse.

Harry sighed in self pity. This was the last time he'd ever take advice from Hermione on how to woo a girl off her feet. She obviously had no idea what she was talking about. But then again, she was dating Ron, who was an amazing man but significantly lacking in the wooing department, so maybe it shouldn't have been that surprising. 

It was bloody disappointing, though.

Well, at least one thing was for certain - things had certainly _not_ gone according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! If you've stumbled across my story by pure chance, (which is probably what happened), I hope you found it satisfactory. Enough to keep coming back for more, at least? Hopefully? :D
> 
> Anyway, I had this idea when I had three thoughts in a row and they somehow morphed into a plotline:  
> 1\. Why is Harry always (Ok, most of the time) the one who comes out as gay while Ginny's just left behind in the background? Even if she ends up with someone else or comes out too. Does no one care how she feels? I mean sure, she's happy, but still, she dated him - that's gotta make her feel SOMETHING.  
> 2\. What if instead of a mutual parting, it was one sided? And what if HARRY was the one who didn't want to move on?  
> 3\. Hey, Ginny's a lot like Lily, what if Harry pined after Ginny the way James pined after Lily - oh wait we can actually do that...and add these other plot points in too!
> 
> And voila! - this story was born. This is the first fanfic I'm writing so I'm kinda winging it, but I think I like what I've come up with so far. I'd be so so grateful for any tips or pointers! New chapters will be up whenever I have time to write, which isn't that much, but I'll manage. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for reading! Kudos and comments would be really really appreciated (and they'd also act as fodder for my skinny motivation to write)! :P
> 
> Love you all! :)


	2. Chapter Two: Ignorance, Ideas, and Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry realizes he's been a bit ignorant. Ron and Hermione have ideas. They have the best intentions, of course.

Harry broke out of his flame-entranced daze on hearing his best friends' voices, laughter really, far away but getting louder by the second. He grimaced again, and barely had time to think about what to tell them before they burst through the door of the burrow and into the cozy sitting room, hand-in-hand and grinning like hyenas. 

Which also ruled out the possibility of running upstairs before they noticed him. Bummer.

Ron's nose and the tip of his ears were pink, from running too fast or laughing too hard, Harry couldn't tell. What he _could_ tell from his vantage point by the fire was that, in combination with the hair and his Chudley Cannons shirt, Ron looked a bit like a cross between a carrot and a tomato (a carrato?), and while it wasn't one of his best comparisons, in his melancholic state, the thought made him grin.

Hermione seemed to have noticed this too. She looked up at her boyfriend and laughed even harder, which made Ron laugh harder, which ended up turning his face even _redder_ , which started the cycle all over again.

Harry grinned at his best friends. He was happy for them, happy that they could find love and comfort and familiarity in each other, in a world that had spiraled into chaos and left a big mess behind for the ones that managed to survive. He was happy that they could still find ways to laugh when there were so many reasons to just curl up in a ball and cry.

Hermione finally managed to stop laughing, in favour of breathing. When she'd finished gasping for air, she looked up at Ron, who had also managed to cease his chuckles. She shot him a big, cheesy grin and kissed him on the tip of his nose, which somehow cause him to flush deeper, something Harry thought wasn't possible at this point.

While the smile stayed on his face, a twinge of something like a mix of pain and longing made itself known in Harry's chest. He looked back into the fire, the flames swirling over the logs like ethereal, red and gold hair. Gryffindor hair. Ginny's hair. Ginny's hair that smelled of flowers, that he'd smelled in the Amortentia in Slughorn's lab two fucking _years_ ago, Ginny who he'd kissed and held and loved and _let go of_ , Ginny who didn't want him back because she...he couldn't think it, _wouldn't_ think it, wouldn't even think about thinking it, because thinking would make it possible and possibilities could give way to reality and there was no way it could be real, no _way_ -

"Hey, mate! Didn't see you there! Have you been here this whole time?" Ron grinned as he plopped down on the sofa beside Harry. Hermione fell heavily into the armchair opposite them, grinning too. Her hair was as wild as usual, and her eyes were bright.

Harry managed a not-completely-fake smile and nodded. "Yeah, I've been here a while. How was your walk?"

He managed to keep his tone light and pleasant, and Ron seemed not to notice anything was amiss, launching excitedly into a riveting retelling of all the streets they'd strolled through and all the people they'd met and all the gossip they'd picked up in the village, but Hermione wasn't so easily fooled. Harry could feel her eyes on him, piercing almost to his very soul, but he refused to yield, and kept his gaze firmly on Ron and his smile firmly on his lips.

"Oh, and Will and Jacob _finally_ got together, it's about time, really, anyone could see those two were made for each other from ten miles away, I can't believe it's taken this long-"

Harry's heart gave another sharp pang at the words 'made for each other'. Then the meaning of the entire sentence struck him.

"Wait," he interrupted Ron's rambling praise of old Ms. Elda's brand new car (a bright yellow, convertible monstrosity 'with those doors that open _up_ , Harry! It was so _cool_!') "Haven't Will and Jacob been together for ages? They've been flatmates for two years, haven't they?" Harry didn't understand, how much more 'together' could you get with someone you were sharing an apartment with? 

Will and Jake were baristas at the little cafe in the village, which served the best hot chocolate in winter, and the most delicious milkshakes in summer - they were practically orgasmic. Harry, Hermione and Ron often ended up there while strolling through the area, and they'd struck up a friendship with the other two soon enough, bonding over chocolate, vanilla, cool scars (Jake had a mysterious squiggle under his right eye), reading habits (Hermione and Will had both been going through a Shakespeare phase at the time) and a shared dislike of anything grape. He'd always known those two were best friends, they were almost glued at the hip, he'd thought it was pretty obvious, and he'd thought everyone else had known it too...apparently not. Weird. But he was happy they'd taken their relationship as far as it could go. Best friends were a great deal closer than friends, he supposed. 

He wondered how Will and Jake themselves didn't realize they were best friends. Perhaps it was just something they'd never considered before? Well, he was glad they had, then, but he couldn't deny it was all a bit strange. 

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, they've been living together as _mates_ for so long, we were all so sure they were having a relationship in secret," which confused Harry even more because obviously it wasn't a secret, everyone already knew they were best friends. Didn't they? "and today we caught them making eyes at each other across the till, and they've done that separately of course, but never _together_ , when the other person was actually looking back at them, so naturally, we interrogated them and threatened them with death by grape lollies until they cracked." Ron looked remarkably pleased about this. 

"Oh please," Harry, feeling even more lost, looked at Hermione just as her eyes rolled ceiling-ward. "You're only smug because their confession won you the bet. I mean, really, it isn't even a proper win if you win by _two days_!" She huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. Ron's smirk turned even smugger, and he winked at her. She stuck out her tongue in response. 

"Ok, now you've completely lost me," Harry said blankly, and they turned back to look at him, his confusion seeming to confuse them, which only made him even more confused. "Confessed to _what_ , exactly? Was it actually a secret that they were best friends? I thought everyone knew that! They were shit at hiding it if they were trying to! And...I don't even know what you're talking about anymore. What's this about a bet?" Harry tried again to make sense of everything they'd said in his head and failed, miserably. 

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, perplexed. "Best friends?" Ron looked bewildered. "Why would _that_ be a secret, of course they were just best friends, until now. That's the whole point, innit?" 

Harry gaped. "Do you mean they're not best friends anymore? Oh my gosh, what the hell happened? Did they fight? Are they Ok?" He glared at them. "Really, how are you two _happy_ about this? Were you betting on them ruining their friendship? Really?" He couldn't really imagine Ron and Hermione doing anything so absurd, but really, what else was he supposed to think when nothing else made sense? 

Ron and Hermione shared another look, this time slightly alarmed. Suddenly, Hermione's face went from confused to astonished to thoughtful, as if she'd realized something she hadn't considered until now, but was surprised she hadn't thought of it before. "Harry, no, it's not like that," she said in a rush. "You've misunderstood, they're not fighting, they're very much still together. They're not friends anymore-" 

"Why else would they not be friends?" Harry interrupted, more confused than ever. 

Hermione, ever the multitasker, succeded in ignoring him and answering his question at the same time. "-because they're boyfriends now." 

For a moment, Harry's mind went blank, and suddenly, he was taken back to Ginny's blush, and pleading words and _someone else_ , but no, he could think about that later, because he was still trying to wrap his head around what Hermione was telling him now. 

And failing miserably. 

"What?" That seemed to be all his brain was capable of coming up with at the moment. He just stared blankly at them, waiting for one of them to explain. 

Ron seemed to have finally caught up to the situation and was now gaping at him. "Really, mate, you didn't - you didn't even - you didn't think - did you not know? Mate, did you really _not know_ that blokes could date other blokes? Really? Is that what the problem was this whole time?" The shock had turned into pure amusement by now and he turned to Hermione, "Oh my gosh, 'Mione, is this real? Is Harry really so - I can't even believe this." He seemed to be holding back a grin. He looked back at Harry, who just stared. "I don't even know whether to laugh or cry mate, I mean _how _-"__

____

____

"Yes, Ok Ron, we get it, you think this is hilarious. You can stop now." Hermione seemed to be torn between laughter and concern. With one look at Harry's face, she decided on the latter. "Harry," she said gently, "it's not a crime. Boys can date girls, or boys, girls can date boys, or girls, and those aren't even the only options out there," she bit back on a sigh of frustration when she realized she was only confusing Harry more. She bent forwards and put a hand on his knee, and he started. "Look, it's nothing new, Ok?" He just stared blankly, and she made her voice more insistent. "It's perfectly natural. I understand the Dursleys might have been averse to such things, probably even insulting or - or vulgar, but it's nothing to be ashamed of. Or against. It's love, Harry. Do you think things like gender really matter? Love is love." 

A few seconds passed in silence, while what Hermione said sank in. Harry looked (still blankly) at his friends while they whispered to each other, Ron snickering behind his palm and Hermione shooting him wary glances, and then decided he might as well say something. "It wasn't the Dursleys, Hermione." 

Hermione turned to face him, and Harry continued. "The Dursleys never really opposed it, like you said. Is what I mean. I'm not saying they supported it or anything, but ...you know, I don't think they would have anyway. They never did like anything they didn't consider 'normal'." 

He couldn't help the bitterness that stained his voice then, but continued before Hermione could interrupt and he'd forget what he needed her to understand. "And I'm not saying I oppose it or anything, Hermione, I'm just - to be honest, I didn't even think - didn't even," He paused for a moment and frowned. "I didn't even consider the possibility, I guess. Didn't know it was a thing. Something. Something you did. Could do. I'm not even making sense right now." He sighed and buried his face in his hands, beyond embarassed, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. 

He heard Ron's quiet laughter in the background, and felt more than heard Hermione leaning closer to him. He looked up when her hand on his knee moved to his shoulder. "Harry, we understand." She smiled softly at him and he blinked. 

Ron chortled beside him. "Yeah mate, don't worry so much. I get it now. You aren't homophobic - you're homoclueless!" He snickered again, falling quiet at Hermione's stern look, but still smirking. Harry looked between them, perplexed. 

"Homo-what now? What are you guys on about now?" He groaned. "You guys, if you haven't realized, I'm new to _all_ of this stuff so if you could _please_ just be a bit clearer when you talk about things, so I can actually follow, that'd be spectacular, thanks." He sent Ron a flat look, and the smug carrato (he really needed a better name for that) just grinned. 

Hermione laughed. "Oh Harry, we're sorry. We'll tell you everything you want to know, OK? You can ask us any questions you'd like, we have the whole evening ahead of us." Hermione grinned while Ron looked mildly horrified for some reason, but Harry was pleased. Ron turned panicked eyes on his girlfriend and hissed, not very quietly, "Are you saying we're going to give him _the talk_ ?" 

Hermione ignored Ron and cut Harry off before he could ask what talk they were talking about. "But first," she gave him a pointed look. "What happened with Ginny?" 

Harry's new and exciting bubble of curiosity deflated, pricked by the sharp pin of reality. He looked down at the red fuzzy carpet - seriously, he thought, was there anything in the house that _wasn't_ red? - and shrugged, unwilling to answer. 

Ron looked at him curiously, while Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Harry, what happened?" 

"Yeah mate, why the long face? Did she want more time or something?" Ron looked baffled. It'd been two months since the war had ended, after all, and she'd seemed fine to him, smiling and laughing and joking as usual. Was Ginny really still so upset she needed to be alone? He frowned. He'd have to speak to her, soon. 

Harry just shrugged again, but at Hermione's sharp, " _Harry_ ," he sighed. "She doesn't want me back," he said tightly, not meeting their eyes. They exchanged worried looks. Harry kept talking, deciding to rip the bandaid off as quickly as possible. "She said it was for the best - I guess she thinks we're better off without each other. She apologized for hurting me, sure, but that doesn't mean she didn't do it." He sighed again, this time more resigned. "She said there's...someone else." Just as he'd suspected, it hurt to say the words, even more than it had hurt to think them. Ron gaped, but snapped his jaw back in place at Hermione's glare. Harry looked up and stared into the fire, oblivious to their silent conversation. 

"I don't know you guys, maybe she's right," he said after a short silence. The flames swirled, red and gold, like a tornado of snitches and Gryffindor banners and red, red hair that smelled like flowers and sunshine and home. "Maybe we really aren't meant for each other, like I thought we were." 

He finally made himself look away. His friends were looking at him with worried eyes, but they plastered smiles on their faces as soon as he looked up. Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, it's not that bad, is it?" She tried to make her words as light as possible, but they still felt heavy in Harry's chest. "Maybe it _is_ a good thing," she continued, and Harry wanted to stop her and wanted to not stop her all at once, because he wanted this pain to go away but he didn't want to give up on this, on her, and he didn't even know what he wanted anymore if he didn't want her and it _hurt_ and the world spun when he tried to think about it, so he didn't think about it, and just let Hermione talk. "You can move on, meet new people, have new experiences. Everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?" She didn't sound like she believe her own words though, and looked hopefully at Ron, who was still searching for something, _anything_ to say. Finally, he blurted out "I don't know what she's thinking." 

Hermione glared at him and Harry stared at him. "Well, obviously, she thinks she doesn't love me anymore, and I think that's the truth, so we might as well leave it at that." The words were hard to get out, and once they were free, he couldn't take them back, and they danced around him, mocking him. Laughing at him. 

Ron looked at Hermione desperately, who shot him a panicked glance, before tentatively shaking Harry's shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts in the process. "Harry," she began, nervously, "it's not the end of the world, you know?" _Then why did it feel like it was?_ "This is just the end of the beginning," _It should have never ended_ , "and now you have a whole new road in front of you," _and she won't walk down it with me_ , "and who knows where it'll lead?" _not to her heart, he was sure_ , "Harry, there are so many possibilities," _and he'd lost the one thing he'd thought was constant_ , "so many things you can do," _but he could never hold her in his arms again_. 

Hermione seemed to lose heart when his frown deepened, and Ron hastened to try and ease her distress. "Yeah mate, I mean, think about it," he placed his hand on Harry's other shoulder, but Harry barely noticed. "You're Harry Potter, the bloody Saviour! You can go anywhere, do anything, have anyone you want!" _But he would never have her_. 

Ron winced when his best mate's eyes seemed to shine a bit brighter. Tears. Fucking hell. He'd made him _cry_. Honestly, he had no idea why Ginny was putting up such a fuss, but she'd hurt Harry, hurt him really badly and damn it all if he wasn't going to fix things, damn it all to _hell_ if he wasn't going to make things right again, because he was Ron _bloody_ Weasley and he was going to _fix this_. 

But right now, nothing they said or did seemed to work, and soon, they stopped trying to say anything, just sat there, offering support in their silence, as their best friend tried to pull himself back together. When he finally managed to look away from the fire, they smiled at him, hesitantly, and he managed a weak tilt of the lips in return. He gently pushed their hands off his shoulders and stood. They rose with him. 

"I think I'm going to bed, guys," he said quietly. They nodded, and Hermione pulled him into a hug, which he returned with a gentle hand on her back, before pulling away and trudging slowly up the stairs after a quiet "Good night." 

After he left, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, the same blazing look in both their eyes, and in that instant and they knew exactly what the other was thinking - or so they thought. They were worried about Harry, of course they were, and Hermione was thinking of the quickest way to get him to move on and see that there was more to life than pining after unrequited love (she was sure she had some books about that somewhere). 

Ron, on the other hand, had a different plan. He was going to get Harry and Ginny back together, or die trying. 

They grinned at each other, happy that they were on the same page (they were really at opposite ends of the library) and, after a "Sleep tight." and a soft peck on the lips, they walked up the stairs to their bedrooms. 

Hermione smiled, a little sadly, when she saw Ginny in bed, fast asleep. She'd been hoping for a talk before bed, but she supposed Ginny was in no better a state than Harry was. Arnold the pygmy puff was curled up on her neck, and his snores were almost as loud as hers. Shaking her head slightly, she cast a mild _Silencio_ , and tucked herself in. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. 

When Ron walked into their room under the attic, Harry was under the covers, breathing slowly, and even though he might still be awake, Ron tiptoed to the bed and turned off the light. He grinned as he scrambled under his covers. Tomorrow was a new day. He couldn't wait to start scheming. 

Oh, the _possibilities_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again!
> 
> Honestly, I wanted to write a chapter about Harry desperate to get back with Ginny and tormenting his friends, begging them for ideas and...this happened. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Tips, pointers, Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> To all of you who've read this book so far - THANK YOU!  
> And I'm sorry about the initial mess with the italics if any of you saw that. Lesson learned - NEVER publish without preview, no matter how sleepy I am!
> 
> I love you all so much. <3


	3. Chapter Three: Milkshakes, Meetings, and Self Motivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness. And a surprising lack of it.

The next few days passed by in a strange blur of confusion, discovery and a few pangs of sadness whenever he saw Ginny. He tried to cross paths with her as little as possible, which wasn't too difficult, the Burrow being the cluttered maze it had always been. He tried to stick with Hermione and Ron, who made him laugh and opened his eyes more and more each day, (of course, _Hermione and Ron_ , how could he have thought of Ginny as the one constant in his life when he had them? He was such a tosser. But that didn't mean Ginny hadn't been a constant. And now she wasn't. Harry wanted to punch a wall. He settled for screaming into his pillow.), but sticking with them wasn't always effective, especially when they kept sneaking off into cupboards and barns and essentially leaving him alone and bored out of his mind. And when he was bored, his mind tended to take him places he didn't want to dwell in for too long. 

Still, through it all, he tried. He smiled when he was supposed to smile and laughed when he was supposed to laugh, and even some times when he wasn't. He had a great time with Ron and Hermione, and George when he was feeling up to it, degnoming the garden and flying in the backyard and frolicking in the woods around the burrow, tracking jackrabbits and grindylows. And in the chilly evenings, curled up in an armchair by the fire in a warm green jumper with pink cheeks and a mug of hot chocolate cradled in his palms, listening to Molly shouting at Arthur about another enchanted rubber duck ("But Molly, they seem so _helpful_ , just look at this one's face, if only I could-") with Hermione and Ron talking about their day and Ron cracking inappropriate jokes and Hermione smacking him while hiding her smile and laughing with them until his sides ached, he felt so completely and peacefully and painfully at home. 

Even if Ginny was on the sofa across the room and not nestled into his side. 

Harry tried his best to not let their breakup affect the general Weasley dynamic, seeing as it was already more strained than usual after the war and all, but he couldn't help the longing that shot through him when she asked him to pass the butter at breakfast, or when their fingers brushed over the salt shaker, or when she threw her head back laughing at one of George's rare jokes, or when he saw her sitting by the fire one evening, playing with her hair as she read a book, bathed in golden glow.

But he smiled and laughed and joked with her as he always did, maybe a little less frequent, but as jovially and innocently as he'd done when she was Ron's sister and there were no kisses and breakups and wars to complicate things. And when he saw her staring blankly into the fire one day, eyes glistening and hands trembling, he sat next to her and put an arm around her without a second thought. She hesitated for a second, maybe two, and then leaned into him. Neither of them spoke a word, but they understood. 

They would be there for each other, no matter what.

Hermione and Ron were distressed by his pining. One was sure it was unhealthy, the other was convinced it was only a matter of time and didn't see the point. and so both tried their best to distract him in all the time they weren't on their own rendezvous. They talked to him about Qudditch and books and homosexuality and their upcoming term at Hogwarts, and took him out to the village when all the safe topics ran dry, so chips and gossip could do what words couldn't.

They were walking along the cobblestone paths aimlessly one sunny day when it happened.

"Hey, let's stop by Will and Jacob's! I'm dying for a chocolate shake."

"You're not dying, Ron, we had lunch barely an hour ago."

" _Dying_ , Hermione.Can't you see me withering away? I'll fly off with the wind one day."

"I think there is a good chance of the wind legitimately breaking if it tried to lift a great heavy oaf like you, Ronald Weasley."

"Oi, you take that back, Hermione!"

"No."

Darn. Harry had been secretly dreading this. He'd definitely learned a lot from Hermione over the past few days, and even Ron had been helpful when he realized Harry was more clueless about what happened outside the bedroom than what went on inside ("Ah, ickle Harrykins, not to worry. Mummy Mione and I are here to teach you the ways of the wor- _Ouch_ , Hermione, that hurt." "It was meant to."). So he wasn't completely ignorant anymore. But there was this unmoving, suffocating certainty in his stomach - it was going to be awkward.

Not because he'd be uncomfortable - like he said, he wasn't completely clueless - he expected them to hug and kiss and do normal couple-y things and he was not going to be weirded out by anything. It was because. Well. He just didn't really know what to say. Was he supposed to show that he was supportive, or just be casual? Should he look away if they were holding hands or kissing, or should he force himself to act nonchalant? Should he even mention the...gay thing? Or not? But not saying anything would be like pretending it wasn't there, right? Wouldn't completely avoiding the topic be offensive? And yet wouldn't pointing it out be offensive too? He was sure calling it "the gay thing" definitely would be.

It was official. He was hopeless. No force on Earth could save him.

When they were about ten feet from the cafe's entrance, the questions became too much to handle. Forcing down the panic. he decided the best plan was to have no plan at all. His mind went completely, blissfully blank. Honestly, he'd known Will and Jacob for three months now, they were great, and they'd never seemed the type to judge. He'd just...act natural. And if he ended up putting his foot in his mouth (which was almost a given at this point) Hermione would be there to fix things, as she always did. And Ron would crack a joke about it before it became too awkward, and they'd all laugh, and nothing too bad would happen. 

Right?

He shook his head frantically as they stood in front of the cafe. He could feel Ron and Hermione shooting him looks that had at first been concerned but were now leaning toward exasperated, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that. There were more pressing matters at hand. Honestly, he knew he was thinking too much about this, but he couldn't help it! Considering he'd never thought anything about this before now, he wasn't surprised that he was overthinking it now, although it was hardly the best time. Ron and Hermione simply stood there, on either side of him, not saying anything. Quiet and supportive.They understood. Thank Merlin. He sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself. He was ready.

Then Ron smacked him on the back of the head, grabbed his shoulders and pushed him bodily inside. 

For a second he was so busy trying to regain his bearings that he forgot to be worried. And then he saw Jacob and Will across the counter, their hands linked, grinning at them. 

For a moment he just stared. Then relief flooded him like a tsunami, and he grinned back. Ron, who was preparing to smack him again, froze, then rolled his eyes and lowered his hand. Hermione just smiled.

"Will, Jacob! Good to see you! How've you been?" She walked forward and took a seat at the counter. Ron and Harry followed.

Will grinned at her. "Yeah, we've been great, 'Mi! Hey, Ron! And Harry, hi! It's been a while, how are you?"

Harry, still grinning like a lunatic, sat down next to Hermione. He saw Jacob look at him a bit funny, and tried to tone down on the relief. "I'm great, thanks! And how are you? I heard about recent developments, congratulations! Took you two long enough to get your act together!"

Both happy couples exchanged knowing, amused looks with each other, and then turned them on him. "Thanks, Harry, that means a lot," Jacob grinned at him and winked.

And Harry realized that his cluelessness was apparently more obvious than their unrequited feelings. And he also realized that they didn't mind it, that they loved him anyway, and that his approval really did mean a lot to them.

Harry grinned even wider. He had the best friends in the world.

The trio returned to the Burrow with milkshakes in their tummies, smiles on their lips and the latest gossip running through their minds. They regaled a fascinated Arthur with tales of the gleaming new Lamborghini and presented Molly with Jacob's peanut butter banana bread recipe that she'd been trying to get out of him for years. ("Oh, that boy! Thank you ever so much, you three! You've managed to achieve the impossible! I can say this - it will definitely be worth the trouble!" "Oh, it was no trouble at all, Mrs. Weasley." "Yeah, it was nothing, we just- ow, Hermione!" "What was that, Ron?" "Ah, nothing at all, Mum.")

Squished between his two best friends on a warm sofa, surrounded by family, Harry felt utterly happy.

Though, not completely happy. He looked at Ginny, smiling faintly as Arthur showed her the new screwdriver he'd acquired, and his heart gave that little pang again. 

If only he could convince himself that there was absolutely no way he could be happier. 

The heart is very difficult to fool sometimes. Ironic, isn't it?

Harry settled back into the cushions, surrounded by love, and forced himself to be content for now. But if there was anything the war had taught him, it was that life was too short to give up on what you wanted without a good fight.

And Harry wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH HELLO EVERYONE I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN SO SO LONG WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE ME-
> 
> Ok. Breathe. In, out. In out. And, again.
> 
> From the top.
> 
> Hi there! I'm super glad that you've somehow managed to stumble across my story - I hope it made you smile!
> 
> Oh my gosh, I honestly cannot believe that so many people have actually considered this book worth their time - I can't even begin to explain how much this means to me. I'll be honest with you - I had three quarters of the third chapter written up but I never had the motivation to even finish it, let alone post it - I'd even considered just abandoning this story (*GASPS OF HORROR* Yes, OK, I didn't do it, RELAX.). And then I got a comment today and I opened up this story after MONTHS and let me tell you, I was ABSOLUTELY BLOWN AWAY. I mean somehow the Hits had rocketed from 30 to 350?? I had actual Kudos??? People had actually BOOKMARKED this story????? I literally could not believe it. I AM STILL SCREAMING OMG AHHH-
> 
> OK, Calm.
> 
> And so I sat down. Finished the chapter. And here it is! 
> 
> Sorry if it's a bit short - this just seemed like the best place to end it :)
> 
> This chapter is for all you lovely people who made me feel like my writing is actually worth reading, when for so long, I honestly didn't think it was. I cannot describe how much it means to me that people actually LIKE reading what I write. Thank you so much!
> 
> I hope you guys forgive me for the unforgivably-long hiatus. I can't promise the next update will be soon but I can promise you that it WILL HAPPEN.
> 
> Any comments and tips for improvement are welcome! Don't be a silent reader! 
> 
> Thank you guys, so so much. I do not say it lightly when I say that I LOVE YOU ALL <3
> 
> Have a wonderful day!


	4. Chatter, Cuisine and Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing has changed.

The neverending ceiling, the candles floating all round, the Head Table, the flood of chatter and whispers and laughter that engulfed him like a blanket as soon as he stepped inside - it was all just as he'd remembered it. 

Except. The chatter didn't die down as quickly as it used to when he entered a room. The laughter seemed more free. And yet, more quiet. The whispers were softer. And yet, louder. The smiles were larger. And somehow, still smaller.

The Head Table had more than a few unrecognizable faces, save for the few he'd know anywhere. The candles seemed dimmer. The stars seemed to shine brighter.

Harry took his seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, opposite Neville and Seamus. They'd barely grinned at them when a hush fell over the room.

Professor McGonagall - oh, right, it was Headmistress McGonagall now - stood tall, her mouth in a firm line and her gaze as sharp as ever. Her hawk's eyes scanned the room, from one end to the other. And then she smiled.

"Welcome, all of you. Welcome to a new term at Hogwarts!"

She raised her hands high. A soft applause broke out. Harry clapped along, a beat too late.

Her smile softened and hardened all at once. "To each and every one of you who have chosen to come back, I offer the warmest welcome I can possibly give. You, all of you students, are the strongest, the bravest batch of pupils ever to walk these halls." She clasped her hands in front of her chest and looked very solemn. "Hogwarts has always been known as a haven. A sanctuary. One of the safest places in the wizarding world. And you, all of you, had that sanctuary taken from you. The enemy breached the walls," whispers broke out in the crowd, "and the pillars came tumbling down. And yet, you did not give up. You did not give up on your haven, your home. You came back.

Harry looked around. Everyone was listening with rapt attention. Silence had fallen over them like a blanket - not suffocating, but providing comfort, in a way. 

"I don't just speak of the ones who came back and fought," many people sat up straighter, "and the ones who came back to help reconstruct," Many of the subdued faces at the Slytherin table now squared their shourlders. "I mean all of you. Each and every one of you. Every single witch and every single wizard that trusted in this castle and loved it enough to sacrifice for it. Even when it took away more from you than it gave."

A smattering of applause broke out in the Hall, which almost died out before it grew to a rumbling roar. McGonagall smiled, her eyes suspiciously bright. When the hall quieted, she became solemn once more.

"And to these people, to these people that deserve so much, I have nothing to offer. Except this castle, that is not what it once was. My apologies, which are no magic spell that can change the past. And, most of all, my thanks. My thanks for believing in Hogwarts, even when it let you down. I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart."

The Headmistress bowed her head, and another storm of applause broke out. Harry clapped so hard his palms stung. Some students cheered, some were sobbing into their neighbours' shoulders. Hermione's eyes were shining, and so were Professor Sprout's and Madam Pomfrey's up at the head table. Slughorn blew his nose noisily into a hanky patterned with pineapples. Ron had a quiet smile on his face. And Ginny's eyes were hard and blazing, almost like the first time Harry had kissed her. 

_God_ he loved her. 

"And now, we shall begin the Sorting!" McGonagall left the hall to bring in the bright-eyed first years, and Professor Flitwick carried forward the stool with the aged Sorting Hat sitting atop it. 

The Hat sang it's tune, the same rhyme it had sang when Harry was a first year. Harry supposed there wasn't much time for songwriting when you were stressed about a war. The hall clapped politely when it finished. It was when "Adderdash, Andrew" tripped his way up to the stool that Harry noticed something - Hagrid was missing. 

"Hey, Hermione, where's Hagrid gone?"

"Hmm?" She frowned at him and scanned the high table. "Oh, I hadn't noticed. I haven't seen him since we said hi outside the train. Was he there when we came in?"

"I saw him taking the first years into the castle," Seamus said. "Dunno if he was up there when we sat down though." 

"I don't think he's ever missed the start of term feast before." Ron frowned. 

Neville shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine, he can take care of himself. There are no mass-murderers running about the castle anymore now, anyway." Ron snorted, and Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile. Ginny paused to clap as "Murphy, Lisa" was sorted into Gryffindor, then turned back to them and grinned. "We can all go down to his hut tomorrow and ask him about it!"

Harry grinned too. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea!"

The platters filled with food. Ron's face lit up and Hermione rolled her eyes as he began to pile his plate high. 

The meal passed with chewing and chatter and laughter. They caught up with Neville and Seamus, and shared stories about all their other classmates.

"Wow, I can't believe Michael Corner is in Egypt!"

"Yeah, Curse Breaking apprenticeship, last I heard."

"Wow, really? Funny how Bill didn't mention anything."

"Oh, I don't think it was for Gringotts. Some excavation thing, he was vague on the details."

"Ah, that makes sense," Ginny looked thoughtful. "And Dean's been drafted for Puddlemere, hasn't he? He sounded so excited in his last letter, I hope it works out-"  
Harry turned away from the conversation, telling himself it didn't bother him at all that Ginny and Dean still wrote to each other.

"Eat slower, Ron, the food isn't going to run away from you."

"Well, it might!"

"Ron, slow _down_ -"

"Bu ish _sho goof_ mynee."

" _Ron_."

"Here, try some!"

"No, Ron- mph!"

"So good, right?"

Harry tuned them out and looked around.

There were fewer familiar faces than usual, but their presence was a comfort all the same. Luna waved from the Ravenclaw table before going back to her conversation with Terry Boot. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot were at the Hufflepuff table, giggling with their friends. Ernie, sitting a few feet away from them, gave him a nod, rather less pompous than usual. The Slytherin table seemed the quietest of the lot. Was it too much silence or too few voices? Harry couldn't tell. 

It was comforting, in a way, knowing that not much had changed. And yet, everything had.

"Neville, Seamus, you're coming with, right?"

"Of course, Gin!"

"I haven't seen Hagrid since the rebuilding. I hope he's well," Neville looked a bit worried. Seamus punched him in the shoulder.

"Of course he is, he's tough! Probably in the forest looking for wild beasts. The firsties have to leave their first lesson awestruck, after all."

"Traumatized, do you mean?"

"Yeah, that too." Seamus sighed. "Anyway, how about our dormitories this year? I hope we get good roommates. Imagine having to room with Ernie. Or _Malfoy_. "

"What? Are they mixing up the house dormitories or something?"

Harry noticed Ginny blush slightly at that. He tuned back into what Seamus was saying. "Oh, Neville, didn't you hear? I suppose your seventh year dorms will be the same as always, Gin, but the eighth years-"

The food vanished from the plates, leaving them gleaming. Harry tried not to pout as his spoonful of treacle tart disappeared. McGonagall's voice, sonoroused, rang out over the crowd. "PREFECTS, ESCORT THE FIRST YEARS TO THE DORMITORIES. RETURNING EIGHTH YEARS, FOLLOW ME."

Well, that was new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, to be completely honest I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter but it's more of a filler anyway, so stay tuned for the next one for better writing and actual things happening!
> 
> I hope you like it! Constructive criticism and any other comments are all welcome! Please don't be a silent reader!!
> 
> Have a wonderful day! <3


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